


Far Too Young To Die

by fluorescentsunset



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Basically, M/M, Smut, Strangers, and then, at first i guess, meet at a diner in the middle of nowhere!Au, thousands of words of pining, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:17:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1416490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluorescentsunset/pseuds/fluorescentsunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Harry meet for the first time in a diner in the middle of nowhere at two o'clock in the morning. The rest, as they say, is history. </p>
<p>Title from Panic! At The Disco's Far Too Young To Die</p>
<p>Inspired by this post: http://jackfrost.co.vu/post/67734298819/forget-coffee-shop-aus-there-need-to-be-more</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far Too Young To Die

**“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shovelled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” -Richard Siken, Crush: You Are Jeff**

     Louis was not as in charge of his life as he’d like to be.  
     No matter what he tried to do, it felt like nothing gave him the pleasure that he knew he was supposed to be feeling. Louis was in university, the “best years of his life”, and while the first couple of years had been everything that he’d hoped for, as time passed he got less and less from his experiences. Louis’ work at a bookstore which usually at least gave him a sense of satisfaction at the end of the day no longer supplied him with anything but enough money to get by on. School seemed like it wasn’t worth it, and even eating and drinking and spending time with friends seemed useless. He didn’t think that he was depressed; he loved life, he really did, but he knew that he needed to change something about what he was doing with his time. Nothing felt right, and Louis was determined to do something to fix that.  
     The clock read six o’clock in the afternoon when Louis pushed open the heavy door of his small apartment. The day had been far too busy for his tastes, with hours of work, tests, and pure struggle to simply get through the day and get back home for a few hours of rest before having to do it all over again starting the following morning. Just glancing around the room would be enough to know basically everything about Louis’ life; there was the small kitchen shoved into one corner of the room, hardly used other than to make cereal and microwave meals--there were textbooks in the dish rack, since that was less expensive than purchasing a bookcase or some shelves. The opposite corner held the desk which often doubled as a dining room table, currently covered with crumpled up papers left there after staying up too late working on essays, and a single mug with a teabag at the bottom which had, at that point, gone completely hard. Turn around one hundred and eighty degrees from standing in front of the desk, and one would be faced with Louis’ bed, one which hadn’t been properly made since the last time he’d changed his sheets. Other than that, there was clothing everywhere, the carpet practically invisible for that very reason, but not much else of interest. The walls were devoid of decoration, and the teacup of an apartment lacked any little trinkets which would be able to turn it from a room into a home for the duration of university.  
     Usually the fact that he didn’t have anything to make the room unique and his own was something that Louis found embarrassment in. Maybe he should be working harder to get little things, pictures and lamps and posters for decoration, so that someone could look inside of his room and be able to find something to differentiate it from the rooms on either side of his. That afternoon however, as Louis stood staring at his bedroom wall as if it held the answers to all of his questions, the substantial absence of personal items became some sort of gift, suddenly making things a lot easier for Louis.  
     Not having knickknacks to be attached to would just make it that much easier to leave.  
     And leaving, Louis came to the realization then, was exactly what he’d needed to do all those months of mental uncertainty.  
     The duffel bag had seemed obnoxiously huge when Louis had bought it a few years earlier. He had needed it for a school trip and had felt stupid carrying it around when it was so large. Now, the task of having to pack up his entire life inside of one piece of durable fabric made the emptiness of the bag which used to feel so daunting look laughable in comparison. Even with so few items to call his own, the prospect of deciding what he would and wouldn’t need to survive comfortably seemed impossible. Louis just kept in mind that, with enough determination, anything could be done. And he now had more determination in his little finger than he’d felt in the past five years or more.  
     Slowly but surely, the dark inside of the duffel was masked by a couple of shirts and a pair of jeans, as well as one extra pair of shoes. Some undergarments were tossed in there as well, followed by all the non-perishable food in the flat. Last but not least Louis was finding a way to shove in his pillows and some blankets, deciding that warmth during nights would end up being more important than being able to have more variety in his outfits. The zipper of the bag shut with only slight difficulty, and then that was that: Louis’ life had just been stuck into one single bag. Throwing on a heavy jacket and some shoes, Louis slung the duffel over his shoulder and then walked out the door for what felt like the last time. Though he figured he might return at some point in the future, at the moment it seemed highly unlikely.  
     Outside of his apartment building, the streets were emptying out. People were either on their way home from a day of work and school or had already gotten there. It was a strange thing for him to think of; while most people were going home, Louis was doing the exact opposite. He was running away, getting out of the place where he had already spent too much of his life in order to try and find something bigger and better, or at the very least happier, to do with his time.  
     Shoving his duffel bag under the tarp which covered the bed of his seldomly used truck--after moving to London Louis had found that using public transportation was often easier than trying to get around using his pickup--it seemed like things were becoming more and more final with each passing second. Louis could still see his building, could pinprick the window behind which was his very own room, but he was readying himself to drive away from it all to a new life he would be able to call his own. After getting into his truck and out of London traffic, Louis picked a direction. He didn’t think of what he would find or where he was going, but just started driving towards what felt the most right. He was finally putting everything behind him.

     Two o’clock in the morning, more or less, and Louis hadn’t stopped driving since he’d gotten in his car. His legs were cramping and the gas needle was getting dangerously close to ‘E’, but there were no signs of civilization anywhere and a weight had lifted from Louis’ chest, one which had been there for so long that it had begun to feel like his natural state.  
     Louis was worrying that maybe he would keep driving and would run out of gas before finding a station where he could fill up his car. Or maybe he would decide to try going to sleep and someone would drive by and rob him of the few possessions he had thought to bring with him. Even so, he kept chugging on, needing to get as far away from that place which had seeped the happiness from his life as was possible in a single evening. If he started to fall asleep at the wheel, Louis would pull over, but so far that had not happened.  
     The first sign that Louis had not suddenly driven out of populated Earth came in the form of a speck in the distance. The light was so bright even from afar that at first, Louis was afraid that he was seeing things, since he didn’t know that something could shine so brightly. As he got closer and the neon dazzle became a bit more clear, Louis could make out the word ‘DINER’--part of the ‘R’ was missing, but it was still easy to tell what it was meant to say-- spelled in big, blinding letters. For a moment, Louis considered driving past, thought that continuing on his way would be the best thing for him to do, that stopping would make him consider turning around and heading back home. The prospect of a warm drink and maybe even a pastry if he thought he had the money for it however was enough to have Louis swerving into the parking lot last minute, turning into a spot right by the door. The only other vehicles in the car park were an old Ford Anglia which looked like it might break upon having a feather fall on it, and a shiny black motorcycle with a bag chained to its handles.  
     Pitying whoever had to work inside of such a place--the building looked like one straight from a horror movie, practically decrepit though he trusted the owners to be able to make a decent mug of joe--at such an awful hour of the night, Louis pressed inside of the building which was inwardly inviting despite its outward appearance. Immediately his ears were greeted with the sounds of old music coming quietly from aging speakers, Frank Sinatra’s voice sounding tinny as it floated from the system. It was almost drowned out by the buzzing of the too-bright lights overhead, but still the docile, satisfying tones could be made out through the noise.  
     “Take a seat, I’ll be right there to help you,” Came the voice of an old woman standing behind the counter of the diner. She seemed pleasant enough, rotund in a way which suggested that she liked to eat her own cooking, which was at least a hint towards decency in the diner if she was also the cook. Louis nodded as politely as he could muster at the instructions and he made his way towards the bar, deciding that having to keep himself upright on one of the stools was a good idea as it would keep him from falling asleep before paying.  
     “You know,” This voice was much deeper, and startled Louis so much that he might’ve fallen off of his chair. “There are only two of us here. We might as well sit together, take the company while it lasts.”  
     Louis swivelled the seat of his stool around so that he could take in the sight of a boy sitting on his own in one of the booths, a half-empty plate in front of him and a mug of what looked like coffee in his hands. From where he was sitting Louis could see the deep, dark circles under his eyes, and even if the thought of company after hours of driving alone hadn’t been a nice one, Louis would have closed the space in as few strides as possible in order to try and get rid of some of the sadness in that gaze.  
Not trusting himself to speak properly after so long sitting alone in his truck, Louis just nodded his response and he stood, walking over to the occupied booth and sitting down across from the guy who was watching his every move, though not unkindly.  
     Louis noted that even with the sadness, the man’s eyes shone with more brilliance than the fluorescents, though the gaze seemed more likely to cure a headache than to cause one. Those eyes--which would later become so familiar--were green, and Louis had a feeling that they would be obscured by hair were it not for the rather ridiculous strap of cloth keeping the curls from falling. It wasn’t often that Louis used the word ‘beautiful’, but it was the only one which came to mind.  
Somehow, this stranger seemed to understand a bit of what Louis was feeling, and he did not speak right away. Before either of them said another word, the older woman from before walked over to the table with a comforting smile.  
     “What can I get for you, love?” She asked, and Louis wished he could just close his eyes and soak up the sound of her voice. It felt to his ears like tea after getting caught in the rain, a bit like coming home; a feeling which was dangerous when Louis had no idea where his real home currently was.  
     “Coffee, please, and a lot of it.” Louis responded. For a moment he considered asking for something else as well, maybe whatever it was that the lad across from him was eating--it looked delicious, whatever it was. But then Louis thought about how much money he had in his wallet and how long he was intending on being gone, and figured that he’d better not if he also wanted to be able to eat breakfast the next morning. The woman nodded at his request and, with a smile, she was gone.  
     The boy across from Louis still did not speak, but rather drank from his mug and ate from his plate and contemplated Louis in a way which made him feel like he should be squirming in his seat, but he couldn’t find anything but the dull ache of exhaustion in his head. Uncomfort was impossible.  
     Only after Louis had downed his first mug of coffee and gotten a bit more slowly halfway through the second were more words exchanged, and Louis had been so focused on his drink and how it seemed to warm him through his bones that he had nearly forgotten that there was someone sitting there with him.  
     “I’m Harry,” Said that same deep voice, and Louis decided that he liked that. It was straight to the point, there wasn’t any small talk beforehand or any questions about why Louis was out so late. Just a name, and a nice one at that. Louis, in his current mental state, could actually function with being given a name to think about.  
     “Louis,” He responded, wondering if he was supposed to shake this man’s hand. It seemed the polite thing to do, but then again, sitting in a diner--the location of which Louis was sure he would never really figure out--in the middle of the night seemed unlike most situations, so he guessed that not going through all social norms was acceptable.  
     “Nice to meet you,” Harry nodded, taking a drink from his mug. “I would ask if you’re from around here, but no one’s from around here. There’s nowhere to be from.” Harry commented, and Louis couldn’t help but laugh quietly.  
     “You’re right, driving around here feels like driving off the planet, or something similar,” Louis agreed. “But if it helps, I’m not from around here.” Louis told him, though he really didn’t feel like talking about London and where he came from before this.  
     Unfortunately, though this Harry character had seemed to understand that Louis hadn’t been ready to talk until after he’d had some coffee, he didn’t seem to be a complete mind reader.  
     “Where are you from then, if not from around here?” Harry asked, and he continued eating after voicing the question.  
     Louis let out a low breath as he thought about the answer. London was the last thing that he wanted to have on his mind. His life which had suddenly ended the moment that Louis had started packing his bag was the last thing that he wanted on his mind. Louis just wanted to think about the future and the open road. Where he would go once he’d finished his coffee. If he would settle down, or if he would ride until he died. Those were the things that he wanted to think about.  
     The question had been lingering in the air long enough though, and Louis knew he would have to supply an answer at some point.  
     “That way.” Louis responded eventually, his index finger going up to point out the direction from which he’d come. Seven hours ‘that way’, but ‘that way’ none the less. He hoped that that was enough of an answer, because it was the only answer that Louis was prepared to give at that moment. Surprisingly, Harry laughed at that, as if it answered his question perfectly.  
     “Cool.” He murmured, still smiling softly. “I’m from that way,” Harry went on to say, pointing in a different direction from where Louis had come, though also different from where he was going.  
     “Interesting,” Louis nodded with a smile. He might’ve considered going in Harry’s ‘that way’ after leaving the diner, thought about trying to guess where it was he was from when he finally found civilization again. He might have, except for how sad Harry’s eyes were. Just the amount of absolute misery in his gaze made Louis contemplate laying down on a beach until the tide came in and swept him away. Louis was grateful that he didn’t know what was going on inside of Harry’s life or his head to make him look like that.  
     Harry didn’t respond, only smiled slightly. They sat on without saying anything else to each other, just enjoying the company as had been the point. Louis listened as the sounds of Sinatra faded into Cash, and it was as if the sorrow in the man’s voice coming in from the radio was settling itself inside of Louis’ soul. He cleared his throat then, getting the attention of Harry sitting across from him as he had been hoping to do with the action, and Louis voiced the first thought to come to mind. He needed to focus on something other than the music.  
     “Are you the Ford Anglia, or the motorcycle?” Louis asked, watching as Harry quirked an eyebrow before seeming to understand the question.  
     “Motorcycle, thank god.” Harry responded, and he laughed quietly for reasons Louis did not understand. “That Anglia looks like it doesn’t have another two miles on it, and I definitely need to go more than two miles.” Harry paused then, seeming to regret something he had said, and he took a drink from his mug which lasted too long for the amount of liquid that was inside of it, so Louis knew it was mostly just for show.  
     “Where are you going then, if not two miles from here?” Louis voiced the question, ignoring the fact that he knew he probably shouldn’t. They were strangers in a diner nearing three o’clock in the morning. A couple of questions wouldn’t kill either of them, and of that Louis was sure.  
     “Dunno,” The words came only after a bit of a pause in which Louis could practically see the cogs of Harry’s brain moving behind his eyes. “Away, I suppose.”  
     Louis could relate to that on a level which he was almost ashamed to admit. For wasn’t he doing exactly the same thing? Going for the sake of getting away.  
     It was only after a few moments that Louis realized that a question had been directed towards him, and he looked up with a sheepishly apologetic smile.  
     “Sorry?”  
     “What about you?” Harry repeated, and he didn’t seem frustrated with having to say his question for a second time. “Where are you going?”  
     Louis should have expected the question, he supposed. And now that he knew that Harry didn’t have a proper answer either--at least, not one that he was sharing--he didn’t feel so bad giving his next response.  
     “I’m not sure, to be honest with you.” Louis started, rubbing at his eyes then to try and get rid of some of the desire to sleep which still lingered despite the coffee he had swallowed during his time there. “I guess that I’m having what most people would call a midlife crisis, or something of the sort; I left where I’m from, and now I don’t know where to go. Anywhere that my truck takes me, I suppose.” Louis finished then, wondering if he had given more information than Harry had been hoping for. He had likely just been asking for the sake of being polite rather than due to actual curiosity. But then again, it could have been genuine interest which had caused him to inquire about Louis’ destination. Either way, there was no way to suction his words out from the prior few moments.  
     “That sounds pretty familiar.” Was Harry’s way of responding, and Louis beamed at that, glad that there were no hints towards irritation in his tone.  
     Feeling a bit more comfortable with their conversation now, Louis decided that he could risk another question.  
     “Are you planning on working?” Asked Louis.  
     “I’m not sure.”  
     “Me either.”  
     “Are you going to visit any family or friends?”  
     “No, I’m not. I can’t handle that right now. What about you?”  
     “I need some time away from them all at the moment.”  
     “Do you think that it’s possible for this radio station to play any sadder music?” Louis laughed quietly as he asked this one, trying to ignore the lyrics floating through his ears.  
     “No, doesn’t seem like it. I think they’re doing it on purpose.” Harry was grinning while he spoke, as if he enjoyed the change to a lighter subject.  
     And so it went, questions being asked back and forth for so long that by the time Louis remembered to take another gulp of his drink, it had long since gone cold. Some of their queries pertained to their travels, what they were potentially going to be doing and where they were potentially going to go. Others didn’t relate to anything of importance, but were rather about preferences--foods, drinks, music, films, etcetera, etcetera. The more unconventional the question, the more Louis and Harry seemed to open up to each other, laughing and smiling all the while.  
     “I’ve got a good question for you,” Louis started, hands wrapped around his fourth mug of coffee, and the kettle of the drink which the waitress had left on the table was at that point completely empty. “Is it uncomfortable being on the motorcycle for so long?” At one point it had been revealed that Harry had been on the road for four hours before stopping for a bit, not yet rivalling Louis’ total of seven hours travel.  
     “Yeah, my bum was hurting like hell. That’s why I stopped actually, besides just being hungry.” Harry explained, and Louis should have expected one such an answer.  
     The way their time so far had gone, Harry was prepared to ask a question of Louis considering that they had been playing a back and forth game of question and answer between the two of them. He stayed silent, however, when he saw that Louis seemed to be seriously thinking about the answer that Harry had given him. Louis was mulling it over, his molars digging into the flesh and skin of his inner cheek, trying to reach a decision on the complicated thoughts running through his mind.  
     “You know, I’ve got a truck.” Those were the first words which Louis spoke after his few minutes of silence. Harry was completely perplexed by this sort of response, and didn’t quite know what to do or say.  
     “I’m aware, you told me before.” He spoke, but not unkindly by any means.  
     “Yes, I know you know.” Louis said inelegantly, and Harry decided that he would sit back and wait for Louis to head on with his own thoughts in his own time, rather than trying to force the words from him more quickly.  
     “I’ve got a truck,” Louis repeated, gaze seemingly locked with Harry’s, though there was an absence in his eyes which made it clear that, in the moment, he wasn’t really seeing Harry. “It’s got space in the back of it for a motorcycle. Also, the seats of a truck are a lot more comfortable than a bike like that.” Louis trailed off and his gaze refocused as he actually took in the way Harry’s expression was changing as he began to understand that which Louis was suggesting.  
     “What are you saying?” Harry asked, voice strangely weak, and Louis knew that he just needed to hear the question more blatantly than how he had been saying it before.  
     “Well, the company’s been nice, and I think it would be good for both of us if it lasted a bit longer than however much time we spend in this damned diner.” Louis stated, shrugging a bit as though it wasn’t so important to him as it really was. “If you’d like, there’s always the space for the two of us to travel together. Find out where we’re actually going and all that.”  
     At first, the silence was a bit daunting. Maybe the whole point of this had been to meet a stranger, share thoughts and stories with them until going separate ways, never to speak again. But Louis realized that he would be much more content to get back into his car with Harry at his side, if not for anything else than to have someone to talk to. He had left everyone that he knew behind after fleeing London. Louis would be glad to start his new life right away by bringing new friends and acquaintances into it.  
     “I could be a serial killer, escaping my dark past.” Was the answer that Louis got, and he couldn’t help but let out a gleeful bark of a laugh upon hearing that. The answer was synonymous with a ‘yes’, Louis could tell that much at least.  
     “Great, then I’ll help you hide the bodies.”  
     Two receipts paid and too many smiles to count, and the two of them were standing and walking into the cold air.

     There wasn’t much complication with taking the tarp off of the back of Louis’ truck and lifting the motorcycle up into the bed, tying it down before covering everything back up as well as possible with the tarp once more.  
     “Wait.” Louis was about to get into the driver’s side of his truck when he heard that word and looked quickly towards Harry. His voice sounded serious, much more serious than it had been at any previous point in their time together. He was looking slightly to the left of the diner, and Louis could feel his heartbeat pick up in fear.  
     “What’s wrong?” He asked, voice quiet just in case that there was someone else there, watching them. Harry held a finger up to his lips in response and began walking towards the side of the diner, Louis’ gaze on him all the while.  
     When Harry got to where he had been staring so intensely, he squatted down towards the ground. The action just confused Louis even more, especially when he heard Harry’s voice speaking quietly from where he was down near the ground. A bit hesitant to see what was happening but too curious not to, Louis walked to Harry’s side and looked down at the ground. The sight he was greeted with surprised him into letting out a bit of a scoffing noise.  
     Harry’s obscenely large hand was running over the back of a little white cat who was exceedingly thin, though with astoundingly clean, bright fur.  
     “Do you think she belongs to anyone?” Harry asked quietly, and Louis looked away from the cat to look at Harry instead, who was staring up at Louis despite how his hand was still petting the cat softly. Louis just shrugged.  
     “She can’t just stay here alone if she doesn’t, she looks like she’s starving to death.” Harry told him, and Louis began to see where he was going with this.  
     “Harry--” Louis began, but he was interrupted.  
     “We can’t just leave her.” Harry repeated and he stood, bringing the cat up in his arms. She didn’t put up any sort of resistance, not even when Harry handed her to Louis.  
     “I’m going to go ask if she belongs to the woman inside the diner.” Harry called these words over his shoulder as he headed towards the diner, quickly going inside. Louis could hear muffled voices as he walked across the parking lot and towards his truck, and he leaned against its side as he gently scratched at the cat’s ears. She was falling asleep in his arms when Harry appeared again.  
     “She’s a stray.” He spoke, and Louis noticed that he had a bag in his hand, seemingly full of multiple various containers.  
     Louis thought about what Harry was suggesting--no, what he was insisting upon. Louis didn’t know where he was going, had no idea what he was going to do with his life, and didn’t have the means to properly feed himself for the amount of time he was going to be out of the house. Yet here was a stranger he had invited to come with him, about to bring a cat along for the ride.  
     “Fuck it,” Louis muttered, rolling his eyes as he handed the cat back to Harry despite that his hands were already full. “We’ll take the damn cat.” Louis actually got into the truck then, buckling up and waiting for his companion to get in as well, the cat and the bags in tow. Harry walked around the front of the truck before climbing in as well, resting the cat in the bit of seat between Louis and himself and the bags on the ground. His own bag was in the back with Louis’ and his motorcycle.  
     It was as Louis started to drive away from the diner that the cat let out a sneeze, and Louis automatically murmured a little “bless you” under his breath. Harry laughed at the both of them before grinning ear to ear, his head turning so that he could look at Louis.  
     “Sneezy.” He said, and Louis just raised an eyebrow to show that he didn’t understand. “We’ll name her Sneezy, like the dwarf.”  
     Louis wanted to roll his eyes, but it was endearing. Besides, it was something that he would be able to remember. “Fine then, Sneezy it is.” He agreed, reaching out to pat at Sneezy’s head softly.  
     When Louis looked over at Harry a few silent moments later, he could see that some of the sadness had gone from his eyes.

     Long after the diner had disappeared in the distance, Louis let out the fourth yawn in so many minutes. Harry had fallen asleep already, his neck perched in a way which could only be uncomfortable against the cool glass window to his left. Sneezy was stretched out, her little breaths moving her chest up and down. Her gaze was on Louis and it looked disapproving, as if she believed that Louis should pull over and get some rest as well. That, or Louis was really just looking for an excuse to stop driving.  
     Trying to stifle yet another yawn, Louis pulled over to the side of the road. He was sure that it wasn’t particularly legal, but he didn’t care in any sense of the word. He knew that the worst which would happen to him was that he would get a ticket, and even that seemed unlikely; he hadn’t passed another car, let alone a cop car, since a couple hours after leaving London. The prospect of anyone driving by, particularly a policeman, was almost laughable.  
     Off on the side of the road, Louis got out and went through the steps of getting his back-of-truck-bed ready by pulling the bike off and chaining it to a wheel of his truck like Harry had suggested at some point during their ride together, so that no one would be able to attempt and steal the bike. Then blanket number one that he’d brought with him was laid down, followed by pillows and blanket numbers two and three. The slight amount of busy work was enough to exhaust Louis down to his bones, and he realized that he probably should have pulled over sooner. It wasn’t exactly what he would call the height of luxury, but taking in the sight of his new bed of sorts filled Louis with a sense of belonging. He would never lose himself again, because everything that was his own he could carry on his back, or lead with his truck. As the sun began to rise in the East, Louis rounded to Harry’s side of the truck and he knocked on the door, unable to open it with Harry leaning against it.  
     Louis watched as Harry slowly regained consciousness, clearly not yet ready to stop sleeping.  
     “Where are we?” He asked after pushing open the door, Sneezy climbing onto his lap comfortably. Harry’s voice seemed to have gotten even deeper just from sleeping, and the tired confusion he had to feel because of how they were on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere was probably adding to just that.  
     “Five star hotel,” Louis responded as he began walking back towards the bed of the truck. He wanted to get to sleep before the sun rose too much. “Now get out.”  
     Harry grumbled a bit but did as he was told as was obvious by the sound of the truck door shutting. Louis had already kicked his shoes off to the end of his makeshift bed and climbed under the covers, practically falling asleep the second that his head hit the pillow. He felt as another body was added to the weight on top of the truck and smiled softly to himself when he felt Sneezy climbing around between he and Harry, getting herself situated.  
     “Good night,” Louis mumbled, pressing his face into his pillow, the only thing in this strange new life of his which had some sense of familiarity around it, really.  
     “Do you realize what time it is?” Was Harry’s way of responding, and after a quick laugh, Louis was falling asleep.

     When he woke up and remembered what exactly had happened the day before, Louis had to bite back a massive sigh. He was convinced that he was going to sit up and find that his partner in finding a new life had disappeared with his motorbike and all the money which Louis had had on him, leaving him with his truck and a cat. When Louis thought to actually open his eyes and roll over, however, instead he was greeted with the sight of Harry sitting up in the bed next to him, feeding Sneezy something from one of the containers he’d emerged from the diner with the evening before.  
     Louis sat up slowly, watching as Harry’s gaze moved from where he had been watching Sneezy eat with a content smile to instead look at a newly-awoken Louis.  
     “Morning,” Harry started, and Louis realized that he must have been awake for a while; when he’d woken Harry up the evening before, his voice had been raspy from sleep, but now it was clear of any sleepiness.  
     “What time is it?” Was Louis’ way of responding, and Harry thankfully only laughed at him.  
     “It’s ten in the morning. You haven’t been out long, you could go back to sleep if you’d like.” Harry told him, and Louis just shrugged. Yeah, he had gotten in total probably five hours of sleep, but now that he was up Louis was already anxious to start driving once more. The two of them would have to get some breakfast somewhere--unless they decided to just go with some of the protein bars which Louis had brought from London--which would take about an hour out of the morning anyway. They might as well get going as soon as possible.  
     “No, I’m fine.” Louis insisted. Harry looked doubtful but he nodded, not willing to tell Louis what to do considering that they had only met the day before.  
     “If you’re sure. But let me know if you want me to drive or something so you can go to sleep.” Harry told him, and Louis just nodded. If he felt like he couldn’t take care of driving then he would tell Harry so that he wouldn’t get the two of them hurt by falling asleep at the wheel or not paying enough attention to the road while getting around.  
     “By the way,” Harry started, stretching a bit and crawling from the bed of the truck, “Thank you for letting me use your blankets and everything.” Harry thanked him, and Louis shook it off quickly.  
     “If I had let you stay there any longer than you’d wake up and wouldn’t be able to move your neck ever again.” Louis pointed out, and Harry made a slightly noncommittal noise of agreement. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve got many things to call my own. I might as well get some pleasure out of sharing them.” Louis explained, and Harry smiled softly at that, though Louis didn’t notice since he was putting the blankets and pillows back into his bag. Harry was carrying Sneezy at that point, holding her close to his chest. It was a little worrying how tired she seemed to be, unable to do much more than sleep and eat, but Louis figured that it had something to do with how skinny she was. It was impossible that she had been getting a proper amount of food in her system, and Sneezy likely wouldn’t be able to do much until she was used to getting real meals throughout the day.  
When everything was packed back up, Louis smiled across the bed of the truck at Harry before stretching his arms back, the bottom of his t-shirt riding up a bit. Louis missed the way Harry’s gaze strayed to his bare skin.  
     “Ready to get back on the road again?” Louis asked, and Harry nodded with a grin. The two of them put the bike back up on the back of the truck before getting situated in the front of the vehicle.  
     “Okay, your turn now. What direction do you want to go in?” Louis asked Harry as he started driving away from the side of the road where they had been rested. He pointed towards an intersection of two roads up ahead, motioning for Harry to pick which way they wanted to go.  
     “We should probably try to find somewhere to fill up the gas soon, since you’re running out.” Harry decided, squinting to look at the signs at the otherwise-empty intersection and trying to figure out which road would bring them to civilization more quickly. After a couple of moments, Harry pointed towards their right, and Louis didn’t need any more instruction. He turned the wheel and headed to the right, wondering where exactly they were going to find themselves. It was exciting, knowing that at any moment they could come to a new town, a new place they had never seen before, just from driving around for that very purpose.  
     “What do we do if we run out of gas before finding someplace?” Louis voiced the fear that had been nagging at him for a while now. He still had his phone and could thus always use GPS to try and figure things out, but Louis didn’t want to do that until it was absolutely necessary. The whole point was to go where the roads took him, rather than to try and figure out a destination beforehand and then find it via a predetermined route.  
     “I could always go on my bike and get some gas then bring it back.” Harry determined, and Louis frowned a bit at the prospect. So far Harry seemed like a nice lad, he really did, but Louis wasn’t one to leave his fate in other peoples’ hands, especially when those people were strangers he’d met at a diner. Harry seemed to know what he was thinking, and he laughed quietly. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t leave Sneezy behind.” He smiled, making Louis laugh, a little ashamed that he had just assumed that Harry would leave him for dead.  
     “Good,” Louis started, running his hands over the steering wheel just to have something to do. Sitting in a truck for so long was making him a bit antsy, at that point.                      “Hopefully it won’t come to that, though, and we’ll be able to find a town to fill up in.”  
     As they continued driving, the first signs that they were coming to populated country was a car which passed them, driving in the opposite direction. It startled Louis so much to see another vehicle that he almost felt like in those few moments he couldn’t remember how to drive. Instinct kept him from doing anything stupid, and soon enough the car was gone, disappearing in the distance behind them.  
     “We must be getting somewhere,” Harry murmured, and Louis nodded, speeding up the car.  
     The second sign that they were getting somewhere was a literal sign, one welcoming them to a small town. The population was written underneath the name of the area, less than a thousand. Louis’ eyes widened a bit at that, but he wasn’t too surprised. Even as fields and houses started to appear, it still felt like they were somewhere abandoned.  
     It was when they got to the centre of the town that Louis saw people standing about, walking between the small buildings and shops. It seemed like there was no one middle aged around, people were either young--his age and younger, it looked like--or older. He figured that the people in between those ages were probably working at the moment, but it was still a strange sight to see.  
     “Hold up, pull over here.” Harry said after a few minutes of mindless driving around. Louis didn’t see a gas pump anywhere, but he still did as had been asked of him and pulled over to the side of the street. Harry got out quickly and Louis didn’t know what else to do but follow, so he did just that, getting out and walking after Harry who was heading quickly down the street.  
     “Hey, wait up,” Louis called after him, having to hurry since his legs were quite a bit shorter than Harry’s which looked nearly neverending. At the words Harry stopped, but Louis realized that it wasn’t because of him; he was talking to an older woman who was hunched over a large box, one of many which were stacked up on the street. When Louis finally caught up to them, he just had to listen to their conversation for a few moments to understand that Harry had noticed the woman struggling with the boxes and was offering to help her carry them inside. The woman, elderly in a way which gave her the air of being delicate and breakable, was nearly overwhelmed with gratitude, it was clear to tell.  
     While Harry was moving the boxes out off the street and into the woman’s little shop--she sold fruits and vegetables, and the boxes were full of apples and grapefruits: heavy for an old woman, but no trouble at all for a young man--Louis helped her inside. She seemed to have trouble even just walking around, so it was no wonder that she hadn’t been able to move those containers. As Louis helped her sit and got her a mug of coffee from a pot she had sitting behind her little counter, he listened to her recount the story of how her grandson was usually the one who helped her, but he had gone out with friends without warning instead, leaving her to do things on her own for the day. The fact that the two of them were helping her out to the best of their abilities saved her from a day of suffering, trying to get everything done.  
     Once Harry had moved all of the boxes inside of the house, the two of them followed the woman’s instructions as she told them how to unload the fruits and stack them properly inside of the store. By the time they had finished, there was a rather beautiful display of apples and grapefruits in the centre of the store.  
     “You two boys,” The woman started, and Harry and Louis turned towards her to take in what she was saying to them. “I don’t have much to give you, but please accept this.” She started, trying to hand them each thirty pounds from her purse.  
     They tried to say no, to tell the woman that they were just doing the right thing and that they didn’t need any form of repayment, but she insisted. Also made them take a bag of apples with them. By the time they had left the store, Harry and Louis were sixty pounds and eleven apples richer between the two of them.  
     When they got back in the car, Louis started driving again, trying to find the gas station for which they had stopped in the town in the first place. Harry was staring at the dashboard of the truck intensely, and Louis could tell that he had something on his mind.  
     “Penny for your thoughts?” Louis asked, and Harry looked at him with a soft smile.  
     “I was just thinking that if we’re going to be driving around like this, it’ll get expensive after a while. We have to eat and drink and pay for gas, and we also have Sneezy to take care of.” Harry reminded him, and Louis chewed on the inside of his cheek. He had already thought of all of these things, but had been trying to avoid letting them plague his mind, since he knew that he would get stressed out if he thought about it too much.  
     “Yes, and?” Louis prompted, because he could tell just by glancing in Harry’s direction that he wasn’t done with his thoughts.  
     “Well, that woman just paid us sixty pounds to help her put away some fruit. People will always need help with little things like that, and we’re going to be driving through so many little towns. I like helping people.” Harry finished, and Louis refrained from rolling his eyes at the lack of a real sense of finality from his words.  
     “So you’re saying we help people when they need it and hope that they pay us so that we don’t become bankrupt?” Louis rephrased the words Harry had spoken, hoping that he understood everything correctly.  
     “Exactly.” Harry nodded, and he seemed happy.  
     Louis saw a gas station across the street then and pulled into it, ignoring the fact that a group of teenagers hanging about in its parking lot were looking at the two of them strangely; he figured that, in a town so small, it had to be strange to see new faces.  
     “Fine, we’ll see if it works out.” Louis agreed. It wasn’t like he had any other plans and besides, doing odd jobs around the country would be a lot better than settling down and trying to find a better, more permanent job, in his head.  
     So, for the next couple of moneths, that was exactly what the two of them did. They travelled South along the Eastern edge of the country, doing little jobs for small amounts of money. What they helped with ranged from painting rooms to cleaning out gutters to helping shop owners reorganize their stores. Some people paid them and some people didn’t, but that didn’t matter. They did everything that they could not only for the monetary factor, but also because helping people gave Louis more happy satisfaction in his life than he felt like he had ever had before. He could tell from how Harry acted that he felt the same.  
     Over that amount of time, life between the two of them got more comfortable, and felt more natural. Conversation came easily between Harry and Louis. They could joke with each other without having to worry about how the other would react, and living with someone had never felt so easy. On nights when they were laying in the bed of the truck and the temperature dropped down, Louis felt comfortable moving Sneezy aside and laying right up against Harry. The other never complained.  
     It was when they reached the South of England that Harry and Louis started to discuss what exactly the options were that they had with their life. They could continue travelling around the country making small amounts of money, or they could try settling down somewhere small. Louis might not have known Harry for long, but he still knew him well enough to be sure that he would be happy to get a small home with him somewhere, spend their days there until their instincts called them out to the road once more.  
     Eventually, it was decided that they were going to continue their travels, but not inside of the United Kingdom. Both of them had passports on their person, and both of them were willing to get out of the country which had caused them so much unrest in the first place. Together, they were going to get out.

     Their new adventure of sorts started on a dock which was completely devoid of any people other than themselves and a couple who seemed to be arguing in quick French. Louis could see the ferry in the distance, getting slowly but surely closer as the minutes ticked by. Harry was leaning against the truck next to him, and Sneezy was inside of the truck, curled up and asleep. She had been getting stronger over their weeks together, her ribs no longer visible through her skin and fur. Even so, she still tended to sleep more often than not, so it was no surprise for her to be in there sleeping.  
     The plans were to get on the ferry, bring the car and motorcycle over to France with them, and then continue their travels as they had done around Britain. Louis spoke a good amount of French, and Harry had a knowledge of it at a beginner’s level. All in all, they were sure that they would be able to figure everything out. At least, for the most part.               Besides, they didn’t need to know much more than how to ask for directions and how to offer their help to someone who might need it. Considering that, their crude French would more than suffice.  
     Once the ferry had slowed to a stop beside the dock, all that they had to do was wait for a large plank of sorts to be lowered. The French couple got aboard first, and then Louis and Harry followed in the truck, loading it onto the back of the boat. It was then that they paid for the trip, a small amount of money even for people like Harry and Louis who lived off of what they could make doing favors for people around the country. That done, they were free to do what they could to entertain themselves as they waited to arrive at their destination.  
     The ferry was slow moving, but Louis couldn’t bring himself to care knowing that it was getting him away from his country. Once arrived in France, he was going to be faced with a whole new culture and place to find surprises and happiness in, and he was going to have someone he had grown to enjoy more than a little at his side the entire time.  
     Louis didn’t mean to start talking to one of the men who worked on the ship. He was just standing about and then it suddenly started happening. Through his choppy French, he managed to have a rather productive conversation:  
     “Do you know France well? As in, all of it?” Louis asked the man.  
     “Yes, as well as any native to the country would.” He responded, and it was already clear to Louis that he was a kind man who would be willing to answer any and all of his questions.  
     “Good,” Louis started, thinking about how he wanted to phrase the next question. “My friend and I,” He began, looking back at Harry over his shoulder; he was standing by the front of the boat, looking out at sea. The wind was blowing back his hair in a way which made it unnecessary for him to wear anything in it, as the curls weren’t going to fall in his face with the force of the moving air. “We would like to travel around looking for little jobs to do. We don’t have much, just what’s in the truck. Do you know where we should go?” Louis asked his question, hoping for a good answer. He knew that it was a lot to ask, and that it was possible his knowledge of the language hadn’t made it possible for him to properly voice his thoughts.  
     The man seemed to think about it for a while, as though he was really considering what he had to say before he said it. That was a good start, since it meant that he wasn’t just going to state the first thing that came to mind but was rather going to put thought into his words.  
     “It’s a long way to go, but I would head South.” He said eventually, and Louis clung on to every word he said. “Towards Italy and Switzerland. Lyon, I think that Lyon would be the best bet for you, the areas all around it.” Thankfully, he spoke a bit slowly so that Louis had time to process everything that he was saying as he said it. “While you drive down towards there you’ll pass many areas that might offer what you say that you and your friend need, I promise you.” He smiled then, and Louis could see in his eyes that he wished the best for the two of them, he didn’t need to say it out loud for Louis to understand that.  
     After many thanks, Louis let the man get back to work and he headed back towards where Harry was standing, slotting into the little space next to him. The blowing wind caused cold ocean water to spray towards them, though not so much to be a frustration. Just enough to be refreshing, if anything. Louis could smell the salt in the crisp air, and as it filled his lungs, he felt truly alive.  
     “What did you talk to that man about?” Harry’s familiar tones filled his ears, and Louis continued looking out at sea, taking in the vast blue which surrounded them. Harry’s hand bumped against his own at his side. Louis assumed it was an accident, didn’t think on it.  
     “He told me where we should go. Lyon, apparently. South of France.” Louis responded quietly, and he felt the backs of Harry’s fingers graze gently against the back of his hand. He realized now that it couldn’t have possibly been done in any way but purposefully.  
     “Lyon. Sounds good. Do you think that we’ll be happy there?” Harry asked, and Louis could hear a softness in his voice which hinted towards fear.  
     For the first time, Louis linked their hands together, their fingers intertwined.  
     “Happier than we’ve ever been before.” Louis promised, and he meant every word.

     The decision to travel through France was one of the best things that Louis had ever thought to do. The air was different, but in a way which made even breathing feel more clean and wholesome than it had in polluted London. Of course, there were big cities in France as well where Louis was sure the air would be just as thick with exhaust and fumes, but he and Harry tended to avoid those densely populated areas in preference of spending time in little French towns and villages. Just as they had done in England.  
     The language difference proved some difficulty, but they were able to overcome it over time. Harry’s French especially got better and better, and after a couple of weeks the two of them were able to speak to each other in all French if they wanted to. Soon enough Harry and Louis could offer their aid to people who needed it without any trouble in the slightest.  
     They spent their days much as they had back in England, going from place to place and doing small jobs for those who needed some help.  
     For instance one day, the two of them were driving through the small commune of Saint-Didier-au-Mont-d’Or in the East of France. They weren’t planning on spending too long in the area as it was a rather expensive place to stay, but they were going through it on their way to Lyon. Harry was humming to himself, looking carefully out the window for anyone who seemed in need of some help. He was always the one who found people, considering that Louis had to focus on not accidentally driving on the wrong side of the road. They were in the outskirts of town when Louis felt a large, warm hand press lightly against his thigh in the way which he had grown accustomed to meaning ‘stop driving’, so Louis slowly pulled over to the side of the road.  
     Looking around as he drove to a stop, Louis noticed a little girl, crying on the ground in front of a large tree. Leave it to Harry to stop for a crying child. Before he even really knew what was going on, Louis heard the sounds of Harry getting out of the truck and quickly walking over towards the little girl, and Louis had little choice but to follow him.  
     “What’s wrong?” Harry asked the child in his English-accented French. She didn’t appear to be any older than seven at most, and Louis briefly wondered where her parents were. Yes, it was a small area and he was sure that they couldn’t live too far away, but still, there was no reason to leave your young daughter alone like this.  
     “My cat,” The girl started to say through her tears, “He’s stuck in the tree.”  
     Louis’ first instinct was to laugh loudly, and he had to cover his mouth and turn his back on the two in order to cover up the sounds of his boisterous guffaw. Never in his life had he actually thought that cats got stuck in trees. Didn’t that only ever happen in cartoons for small kids? Apparently not.  
     “Okay then, I’ll get him out.” Harry promised, and Louis turned back around them, biting down on his bottom lip painfully. The little girl was looking up at Harry with wide eyes that were still watering slightly, and she nodded quickly at his words.  
     “Please,” She murmured politely, and Harry smiled at her. He stood then, looking pointedly at Louis who was still shaking with suppressed laughter. Louis couldn’t really help himself, however; out of all the things that they had been asked to do over the period of months that they had been together, never had anyone asked them to do something so damned cliché as to rescue a cat stuck in a tree.  
     Louis watched as Harry looked at the trunk of the tree for a few moments, clearly trying to figure out how exactly he was going to go about doing this. After glancing over the tree, it was easy to find the bright orange cat hidden among the leaves. He was pretty far up, something which only made Louis laugh harder since Harry was going to have to get all the way up there on his own. Eventually Harry walked up towards the tree, grabbed for the lowest sturdy-looking branches he could find, and he hoisted himself up into the tree. Louis wasn’t laughing as he watched the flex of Harry’s arms as he did this, though the giggles started tenfold when Harry’s curls got stuck in a branch and he had to get himself free before moving on.  
     It took a total of five minutes, no more, for Harry to get up and get the cat from the tree. Getting down was a bit more of an issue, considering that he had to do it while holding a meowing cat, but he managed it all the same. Soon enough, Harry was handing the cat down to Louis before jumping out of the tree, the little girl’s gaze trained on her pet all the while.  
     After chanting out too many thanks to count, the little girl accepted her cat from Louis and then started running away with him in her arms. Louis assumed that she was heading home to tell her parents about what had just happened.  
     “How wonderful,” Louis said, his voice shaking a bit with his laughter. “You’re so brave. A real knight in shining armour, you are.” Louis told him, and Harry just rolled his eyes, shaking out his hair with his hands to try and get the loose leaves and branches from it.  
     Still smiling softly but taking pity on the boy, Louis stepped close and gently knocked Harry’s hands out of the way. He brought his own hands up to replace Harry’s and began fingering through the soft curls, pulling out the little pieces of the tree while trying not to tug on any of Harry’s hair. Harry shut his eyes as he focused on the feeling, and if Louis continued playing with his hair even when all of the flecks of green and dark brown were gone from it, then no one had to know.  
     After a few more moments, Louis pulled his hands from Harry’s hair. He ran the pad of his thumb gently over Harry’s cheek as he watched him open his green eyes, and then he smiled. “There,” He murmured sweetly, “I helped, too.”  
     Harry’s hand came up to rest over Louis’, holding it against his cheek, and it was moments like these that Louis wanted to be able to freeze and just keep for himself forever. It was also moments like these in which Louis wondered what they were doing, really. Strangers didn’t just meet and decide to start travelling together, it wasn’t something that happened. But they weren’t strangers anymore, were they? Not really. To Louis, that was what really mattered the most; where they were now.  
     “Come on, let’s go.” Louis whispered after a couple of minutes of just standing so close to each other, breathing each other in. Harry nodded, though even when he moved his hand, he didn’t let go of Louis completely. He took Louis’ hand off his cheek with his own and held it softly by his side, leading Louis back towards the truck. Their adventure would continue once more and over time, they would realize that these were the happiest days of their lives so far.

     Travelling around France doing small jobs for people was much different than it had been in Britain, Harry and Louis realized after a while of doing just that. The people in France were less likely to accept their help, meaning that money was slowly becoming a bit more tight. They still had some of the cash that they had made before meeting each other to rely on, but Louis and Harry tried not to use those stashes unless it was completely necessary, choosing to instead live off of what they made working while driving around.  
     For these reasons--and because Louis had absolutely fallen in love with Lyon after visiting it for an afternoon, and because Harry seemed to have difficulty denying Louis anything that he really seemed to want--they found themselves moved into a small, small cupboard of a flat together. It looked much like Louis’ old apartment in London had, only even smaller. There was a bed in one corner; a door leading to a bathroom in the opposite corner; the corner across from the bathroom was a little kitchen with just enough space for one of them to be standing at the fridge while the other was in front of the stove; and in the last corner, a little table with folding chairs pressed to either side which they used for dining. After living for so long spending most of their time together inside of a truck, having anything bigger would have just been strange for the both of them.  
Harry got a job at a produce store, mostly stacking fruits and vegetables and selling them to locals. Louis, for his part, got a job at a bookstore once more. There honestly wasn’t much to do, but it was happy busy work that put food on the table and kept him entertained, for the most part, during the day.  
     After work, Harry and Louis would meet back up at home. Either they’d have a little dinner in their littler apartment, or they would go out to eat somewhere they could walk to. Then at the end of the night they would go home to Sneezy and sleep next to each other on their bed. That was all they ever did--sleep. Sometimes Louis thought that something else should be happening, and sometimes he thought that the look in Harry’s eyes suggested that he was thinking the same. On those nights, they only ended up holding each other closer as they succumbed to the draw of slumber until awaking early the next morning.  
     There was a lot of sharing going on between them. Sharing space, sharing a bed, sharing clothes, sharing food. A favourite was sharing ice creams late at night as they walked beneath the stars, marvelling over how even in a different country, the moon still looked exactly the same.  
     This style of living continued for a series of months. The leaves had fallen by the time that they’d settled down and a deep chill had set in. As they stayed in Lyon, snow fell and celebrations passed. They had a little party of sorts for Louis’ birthday, and then another the next day for Christmas. New Years passed in a drunken blur, and if either of them remembered that Louis kissed Harry when the clock struck midnight, they both pretended not to the next morning. Even so, Harry always held Louis’ hand a bit tighter starting that next day.  
     It was on Harry’s birthday that Louis realized that there was something wrong.  
     Louis had told Harry to rest in bed while he cooked up a breakfast for the two of them. Louis could feel Harry’s gaze on his back as he cooked some scrambled eggs and cut up a package of strawberries, covering them with lemon and sugar until they were perfect. When the eggs were done, Louis scooped them onto a plate and placed the bowl of strawberries down next to them. A few slices of bread were stacked in the remaining space, and then Louis was walking back to their bed. Harry had sat up during the time that Louis had been making their breakfast, and so Louis sat down on his lap, facing Harry as he did so and balancing the plate on his legs.  
     “Birthday boy gets first bite.” Louis murmured as he scooped some of the fluffy yellow eggs onto the fork and held it up in front of Harry’s mouth. Harry smirked slightly before leaning forward and pulling the food off with his lips, humming in appreciation for the hot meal as he chewed. “Do you feel older yet? Twenty’s a big year.” Louis asked as he stuck the fork back into the eggs and tried them himself. They weren’t quite as good as when Harry made them, but he was getting there.  
     Harry laughed quietly at the question and thought about it a bit before shaking his head in a falsely apologetic way. “Nope, can’t say that I feel any different, sorry.” He responded, grabbing the fork from Louis who was taking too long for his tastes and continuing on with his meal.  
     They continued on in that way for a few silent minutes, eating their breakfast squished up together on the bed. Louis had been spaced out a bit, staring down at the bowl of strawberries, when he sensed for the second time that morning that Harry was looking at him. He glanced up and met his gaze, seeing that Harry had been staring at him quite intensely.  
     “Is there something wrong?” Louis asked. “It’s your birthday, what are you doing making that face?” Harry didn’t quite look angry, but he didn’t look happy, either. It was clear to someone who knew Harry as well as Louis did that there was something wrong inside that cute head of his.  
     “This isn’t us,” Harry started right off the bat, and Louis knew that he wasn’t talking about the lack of personal space or the fact that they were sharing a plate and a fork, something which he knew would likely make his own mother cringe. He was talking about something more important, but Louis didn’t know exactly what that important thing was.  
     “Please, do explain.” Louis prompted, and he stuck his arms back and leaned his weight against them, still on Harry’s lap and still looking at him attentively, just doing so a bit more comfortably.  
     “This,” Harry repeated, motioning towards the apartment as a whole--their kitchen, their bathroom door, their little table, and even the little bed on which Sneezy was currently playing with a toy--and causing Louis to look around at everything they could, at the moment, call their own. “It’s not us. It’s really not, Louis. The two of us, we met in a diner in the middle of the night, and for months after that all we did was drive. Some day I might be ready to do this, to stay in one place in a little apartment with a slow job I have to do every single day, but I’m not yet. I just turned twenty, and I’m not ready to settle down. I want to stay with you, I want to spend every waking and sleeping moment with you that I can, I really really do, but not like this. Not yet.” Harry finished his speech, which was said more quickly than he usually spoke, and he took a deep breath as they fell into silence.  
     Louis sat still, a little bit tense though not because he was made uncomfortable by what Harry had said. He had been feeling similarly for a while at that point, but hadn’t said anything for lack of wanting to make Harry leave if he was happy and comfortable with where they were. He hadn’t figured that Harry would feel the same.  
     After a few more minutes of thought which Harry gave him without interruption, Louis sat back up and ran a finger through Harry’s long hair the way he did when he knew that Harry needed some sort of human comfort.  
     “Alright then.” Louis responded, voice quiet. “When do you want to leave?”

     At that point, both Harry and Louis were more than capable of packing up the things they owned and leaving without issue. They quit their jobs, packed their clothes, and alerted the landlady that they would be leaving, all with enough time to get a couple hours distance between themselves and where they had stayed in Lyon. They had already passed the border into Italy when they really realized that they were in yet another new country, only this time one they didn’t even know the language of. Harry and Louis ended up stopping their happy drive with windows open despite the cold as they passed into Valle D’Aosta, a place which Louis decided was the second most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. The first he was too embarrassed to admit even to himself, and made it a bit hard to look at the boy, the beauty, sitting next to him.  
     The truck rolled to a stop in a small, natural gravel car park of sorts between a crystal clear lake which shone with the brilliance of the millions of stars it reflected back up at the winking sky, and a thin forest which ended in a mountain, too high to see over from their angle.  
     Louis got out of the truck and set to work readying the back of the truck into a makeshift bed as Harry wandered around, staring at the sky. It was cold, and Louis knew that their surroundings of a lake and a mountain weren’t exactly going to help, but they had bought extra blankets in Lyon and could always stretch the tarp over the top of the bed if it got to be too cold. Worst case scenario, they would go into the front of the truck and sleep sitting up with the heater running through the night, though refraining from doing that was preferred.  
     “Come on, Harry. Your castle awaits.” Louis joked softly, his voice echoing a bit through the valley. Harry turned on his heel and headed towards the truck where Louis was already settling down underneath the almost silly amount of heavy blankets, Sneezy having situated herself inside the front of the truck where she liked to sleep on the ground on her bed which they’d brought with them. Harry kicked off his shoes and then climbed into the the bed, closing the foot of the truck behind him before laying down next to Louis, contentedly comfortable in the warmth being given off by Louis’ body and being retained by the blankets covering them up.  
     They laid in silence, their hands finding each other inside of the bed and wrapping together in the such familiar way, their fingers intertwining.  
     “Look at all those stars.” Louis whispered after what felt like a small eternity, having been able to tell that Harry was still awake due to the fact that his breathing was still a little erratic, not yet the slow, heavy breaths that indicated that he had lost consciousness.  
     “They make you feel a bit small, don’t they?” Harry asked, and Louis shook his head in response.  
     “I can’t possibly feel small when we’ve got the whole world at our fingertips. I won’t let myself feel like that, not anymore.” Louis murmured. He had promised to himself long before that he wouldn’t allow himself to fall back into the sad, lonely state of mind which he’d been in upon deciding to leave London. Of course Louis knew that he would have sad days, but he wasn’t going to be a sad person. Not any longer.  
     Harry’s fingers tightened around his own then, and Louis turned on his side to face his friend.  
     “What are you thinking about?” Louis asked, bringing up his free hand to smooth the frown out of Harry’s forehead.  
     Harry mirrored his action and turned onto his side as well so that they were facing each other, their noses mere centimetres from each other. Their inhales and exhales were shared, and together they could have survived forever.  
     “I think that you saved my life.” Harry whispered suddenly, and Louis was shocked not only by his words, but also by the fact that he had spoken at all after so long of stretched silence.  
     Louis didn’t have time to say anything before Harry was continuing, which was probably good considering that Louis had no idea what he was supposed to say to something like that.  
     “If I hadn’t met you, I don’t think that I would have ever stopped driving.” Harry told him, and Louis wasn’t quite sure that he understood.  
     “We haven’t stopped driving, Harry. Not really, not for long.” He reminded him, but Harry shook his head in a way which made it obvious that Louis didn’t really know what was going on, at least not in Harry’s head.  
     “Maybe not, but had I not met you that evening in the diner, I would have kept going and going until I was hungry and didn’t have a penny to my name. I would have spiralled farther and farther into the misery which spurred my leaving in the first place. Without you, I’d be laying on the ground somewhere, cold and alone and dying, I’m sure of it.” Harry explained a bit more carefully, and Louis was suddenly flooded with the mental image of what Harry’s eyes had looked like when they had met. The intense sadness which had filled them and seemingly broken Louis’ heart in two. Now, that feeling of being broken was returning. Louis just wanted to hold Harry forever and ever, do whatever he could to make him feel happy for the rest of their time on earth.  
     “And I never thought that I would feel like this. Never assumed that I would feel such lov--”  
     “Harry--” Louis interrupted, but Harry quickly returned the favor.  
     “No, you need to listen to me, Louis Tomlinson. I always quiet down and listen to you talk, listen to your boisterous voice and your funny stories even when all I want to do is sit in the quiet and go to sleep. I always, always listen to you and am so happy to do just that forever after this moment if I have to. But now, you’re going to listen to me.” Harry insisted, and Louis just swallowed before nodding. Never had he heard so much power behind Harry’s voice, but there was also a sweet delicacy to his tone that showed just how sincere he was being.  
     “Good,” Harry murmured before smiling a gentle smile and bringing his free hand up to cup at Louis’ cheek. “I lost my family. All of it. My mum, sister, step-dad, everyone. And then, I left, just like that. After that, I never thought that I would ever feel something like this ever again, so much love for a single person. But now? Now, I not only have that much love, but so much more. I don’t just love you the way that I loved my family, even though you’re my family now, Louis. I’m in love with you. And no matter where we go or what we do, that will never change.”  
     Louis wouldn’t be able to later pinpoint the exact moment that their lips met, but when they did, it was with none of the drunken unsureness that had surrounded their first kiss on New Year’s Eve. It was damp, not only from their lips but from the tears which Louis hadn’t noticed dripping slowly down Harry’s face. Their mouths moved together hungrily, their hands grabbing at each other desperately. Louis only pulled away when the need for breath became too much to handle, but even then he didn’t go far.  
     “Please,” He panted, his nose still pressed against Harry’s, his fingers curled into the front of Harry’s shirt. “Show me how much you love me so I can show you that I love you too. Please.” Louis repeated, and Harry seemed to get the message.  
     Their fingers worked to rid each other of clothing until they were nude underneath the blankets and their hands were exploring each others’ bodies in such a new and exciting way. Harry found his way on top of Louis and he ground their hips together, sweetly delicious noises escaping from between their lips.  
     “I need--” Harry started, but Louis didn’t need to hear the rest of it to know what he was going to say.  
Louis ignored the way that Harry laughed at him bluntly as he produced a package of the clear, cold liquid for which Harry had been looking from where it’d been tucked inside of his wallet.  
     “Call me hopeful,” Louis mumbled as he handed Harry the packet. Even in the dark, he knew that it was probably obvious that his face was turning a bright, tomato red.  
     “Hopeful,” Harry complied, and even in his embarrassed state Louis managed to roll his eyes, though there was a fond smile growing on his lips. Harry grinned at him before pressing their lips together in an impassioned kiss, and Louis was so caught up in the way their mouths and tongues moved together that he didn’t notice that Harry had readied his fingers until his legs were being spread and one was being pressed inside of him.  
     Louis gasped against Harry’s lips, but the sound was swallowed down by Harry’s kiss as the finger started moving inside of him, slowly opening him up. This process was repeated with a second finger and then a third, and only when those three fingers were curling and Louis was begging quietly against Harry’s skin did Harry pull them out and start spreading the lube over himself instead.  
     Balancing his body over the one beneath his, Harry looked down at Louis with such intense adoration that Louis was almost more overwhelmed by that one look than he had been by any of the events which had just transpired. Louis brought a hand up to rest on the back of Harry’s neck and he nodded.  
     When Harry pressed inside of him, Louis let out a high moan which sounded perfectly with Harry’s deeper one. They gave each other a few moments to adjust and get used to the feeling of being so close to each other. After those moments, their bodies began to move in perfect sync, one moving up while the other moved down. Louis didn’t think that he would ever want to stop feeling the way Harry stretched him open and filled him up, making him feel so much more than he might have ever thought possible.  
     It was as their noises reverberated through the mountainous valley that they both came with each other’s names spilling from their lips. Only as his breathing became more steady did Harry remove himself from inside and on top of Louis, but even then he didn’t go far. They curled into each other as natural as the yin curls into the yang, and it felt incredibly true; you could not have one without the other.

     The sun began to rise over the glittering water, the shining mountains, and the rusty old truck, and still neither Harry nor Louis had fallen asleep. Too busy were they going from moments of the happiest silence to periods of whispering sweet nothings into the other’s ear.  
     At last, right as he was about to fall asleep, Harry voiced a question:  
     “What do we do now?”  
     It was with absolute confidence that Louis’ sleepy voice spoke out:  
     “Anything we want.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you all enjoyed this! This was my first fanfic posted on Archiveofourown and my first Larry fic in a long long while. Please comment and kudo if you liked it : ) Thanks!


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